


Living and Surviving

by KarenHardy



Category: Original Work
Genre: Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Other, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 07:43:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14637264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarenHardy/pseuds/KarenHardy





	Living and Surviving

“Do you want to die?”  
The suddenness of his dark question struck me.  
“I've thought about it.” I replied, “Why?”  
“Just- I mean- When you attempted. Did you really want to die?”  
“I wouldn't have tried if I didn't.”  
“No, I mean, did you want to die? Not like thinking everyone would be better off, not thinking you wouldn't have to deal with this world, did you genuinely want to die?”  
“Um… Y’know, I don't know. I just- It hurt so much and I wanted to be done with it.”  
“But did you really want to die? You told me you don't believe in God, so… what did you think was going to happen?”  
“I don't think I did think about it. I think I was just done.”  
“Done with living or done with what that meant?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“I mean- Well, to be done with living means not wanting to live anymore, which is different than wanting to be done with surviving, which is your body still functioning, but the rest of you being not right. Living and surviving are two different things.”  
He sighed, running a hand through his hair before he looked back at me.  
“Living is… Being alive is… It's more than just holding on. It means something different every person, but it's being happy as much as you can and being able to deal with being sad when you need to, because you can’t be happy every second of every day. There's a difference between that form of life and really truly not wanting to be alive anymore because that's living, not just surviving; where the body is alive and the mind is aching. I liked being alive, really alive, where I feel the rollercoaster of emotions I call my own and deal with them. I don't know, its just- life. There's no other word for it, because that's just what it is. So what I'm asking is, were you done with all that? Or were you done with hauling around a shell?”  
I thought for a moment. His long winded explanation of life had shaken me. I too had felt that not long ago, before my attempt. Finally I plucked up the courage to respond.  
“The second, I think.”  
He nodded.  
“Me too.” He said. “I think me too.”  
We looked around at our hospital room, my gaze falling on the two other empty beds and his on the frosted windowpane, and for the first time since I had hit the ground under that bridge, I smiled. Really and genuinely, I smiled. It was like for a moment, nothing mattered. Just this boy beside me. A new acquaintance on my first day.


End file.
